


Worth 500HIR

by mx1_jawbreaker



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Bugs, Cannibalism, Dysphoria, Eggs, Emetophilia, Forced Pregnancy, Fpreg, Hormones, Insanity, Mania, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oral Fixation, Original Female Character - Freeform, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Vomiting, Worldbuilding, loudly implied cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mx1_jawbreaker/pseuds/mx1_jawbreaker
Summary: The worst part about the eggs was the constant morning sickness.‘Fever, vertigo, lower back pain, mood swings, morning sickness. . .’— Honey’s cracked lips quirked up into a smile and she giggled. It was just like how her mother had described being pregnant with her. She had talked about the experience as being life changing — euphoric even. Having children was one of life’s greatest miracles.Honey thought it was absolutely disgusting.





	Worth 500HIR

The worst part about the eggs was the constant morning sickness. 

Honey’s head hung low into the toilet as she felt her empty stomach heave again. A long string of bile extended from her mouth to the green-yellow slurry that was floating on top of the thin layer of water at the bottom of the drain, and Honey wondered what she’d eaten in the past few hours that would make that color. 

Breathing heavily, Honey reached up and blindly fumbled around for the button on the wall. She watched as the jets activated, pushing the vomit around in a tight spiral as it was sucked down the drain. Honey felt her stomach clench as vertigo struck, and she lifted her head out of the bowl to fall back onto the toilet seat. The metal rim was blissfully cool against her feverish skin, and she sighed contently. 

_‘Fever, vertigo, lower back pain, mood swings, morning sickness. . .’_ — Honey’s cracked lips quirked up into a smile and she giggled. It was just like how her mother had described being pregnant with her. She had talked about the experience as being life changing — euphoric even. Having children was one of life’s greatest miracles. 

Honey thought it was absolutely disgusting. 

She dragged the hem of her shirt over her teeth, trying to work the taste bile out of her mouth as she let her gaze roam around her bare cell. One toilet, a sink, a surprisingly comfortable cot that was bolted to the floor, three metal walls that were just slightly too close together to let her fully stretch, and wall of transparent paneling which overlooked the hallway of identical cells. 

If her whole cell didn’t stink of sweat, vomit, and the cloyingly sweet smell of pregnancy hormones, then Honey thought that she might actually miss it. 

Honey’s free hand rested on her lap, trying to keep it from touching the extended mass of her stomach. It bulged out grotesquely — a swollen, deathly pale growth that was crossed with angry, purple-red tears where the skin of her stomach had ballooned out too quickly. The skin was stretched thin, and it rippled unevenly due to the hundreds of eggs which had been artificially stuffed inside. 

The fuckers moved too. It wasn’t enough for them to weigh her down. They were as restless to get out of Honey’s body as she was. The first day hadn’t been bad, but once the fuckers got going — oh boy — that’s when things got fun. 

She sucked in a tight breath, balling one hand into the fabric of her shirt as a sharp jab of pain laced through her left side — another organ being forced to make room for the new hosts. 

_‘Hosts. The life sucking, parasitic hosts. Ugly fuckers. Little demonic bastards. Bitches. Uh—’_

Honey’s brain blanked as she was hit with another round of intense dry heaves — it felt like an invisible pair of hands had grabbed her intestines and were wringing them out like a washcloth. Her hands scrabbled across the toilet’s smooth surface, trying to find some kind of purchase for her to grab onto as she felt every muscle in her body seize up with the effort of pushing the contents of her stomach out in order to make more room for the eggs. 

Something in Honey’s jaw let out sickening _crack_ as she hyperextended her mouth, forcing it open in a silent scream as the tendons in her neck jutted out, and her skin began to take on a blotchy, fuschia hue. 

Black spots swarmed her vision as she struggled to take in a breath — this was it. This was going to be how she died in this body. Blacking out while bent over a toilet and drowning in the inch of water that was collected at the bottom. 

A dribble of clear bile came up, burning her ragged throat on the way, before her muscles finally unclenched and Honey fell back, breathless. Her hands shook as she touched her face, wiping away a layer of sweat that had formed. 

She was almost done. She could feel it in her gut — _heh_ — soon, the doc would come in and wheel her off to surgery, and Honey would be 5000HIR richer. 

_‘Only a little longer. I can't pussy out now, right? Yeah— yeah! I’m great! I’ve got this. Just gotta get into bed. Sitting on the floor isn't good for the eggies — hah. Eggies. Motherfuckers. Eggs. Bastards. I bet they’d taste good. People eat fish eggs. It’s not too different. What’s it called—.’_

A shiver worked its way down her spine, and Honey began to salivate at the thought. _‘Caviar. Bug caviar. Expensive fucking eggs in my guts. Fuck. Yes. Nasty fuckers. Parasites. Like having actual kids. What did mom do when she got sick? Couch nap. Gotta lie down on my side. I’ll feel better in bed.’_

Honey continued to psych herself up as gripped the sides of the toilet and struggled to get her feet underneath her. Her arms trembled from the effort, and Honey could see the blood vessels in her arms swell as she strained to just lift herself off of the floor. It _shouldn’t_ be this hard for her to just lift her own body weight — she had felt weak before, but this was unbearable. 

Panting, Honey maneuvered herself so that she was kneeling on one knee. Beads of sweat collected across her forehead as Honey’s chest heaved, and her legs shook from the effort. Her stomach was pressed uncomfortably against the metal rim of the toilet, putting more pressure on the eggs. 

Or— it wasn’t _uncomfortable_. It felt more like— 

Honey leaned harder into the ridge, feeling it dig into her skin. Her vision blurred, and her eyelids fluttered shut as Honey had the mental image of continuing to push forward until the metal ridge bit into the taut skin with a little _pop_. 

Her skin would tear open — just a little slit to start — and then the eggs would start pushing over each other to escape the pressure inside of her body and the hole would be forced bigger as they all tore out. She could imagine how her skin would rip apart as hundreds of eggs pushed their way out. How the loose skin would sag and deflate as soon as it was empty, and what it’d feel like when Honey was able to grab both of sides of the wound and force it open wider. 

_‘I’d be able to reach my hand inside of that empty hole. I could put my whole hand inside of there. Maybe there would be a few left and I could— ooooh.’_ A delirious giggle worked its way up from Honey’s throat. _‘Caviar. I could crush them between my teeth. . .’_

Honey fixated on the idea, fantasizing about digging her hands into a mass of slippery, gel-like eggs and what they’d feel like as they popped underneath her teeth. If the juice running down her throat would be salty-sweet like amniotic fluid sucked out of chimera eggs, of if they’d be as bitter and poisonous as her blood. How the wriggling, white carapaces would crack underneath her molars and—

A thick trail of drool fell from Honey’s mouth as she began to drag herself toward her bed. The rim of the toilet wasn’t sharp enough to cut through her skin — even as thin and tight as it was — but the makeshift shiv underneath her cot might do the trick. 

It would _definitely_ do the trick. 

Honey bared her teeth — the closest thing she could get to a euphoric smile. _‘Yessss. Yes. It’s not like the doc has each egg counted. Little fuckers. Parasites. I deserve this. Yes.’_

Her whole body trembled from exhaustion as she crawled across the floor. It was only a few feet away, but she could feel her atrophied muscles beginning to violently cramp from the exertion. Reaching up, Honey grabbed the edge of her cot with one hand and began to haul herself 

Her wrist seized, buckling underneath her weight and Honey suddenly found herself back on the floor, her swollen stomach smashed underneath her full weight, and causing her to see stars from the pain. 

Something inside of her let out a sickening _pop_ , and Honey’s breath came out in short, erratic spurts as the displaced eggs forced themselves higher in her chest, putting pressure on her lungs. “Ha— ha— hah. Fuck.” 

She forced herself to roll over onto her back, relieving the pressure on her lungs just enough for her to take in a deep breath before the eggs moved back into her lower stomach, crushing her other organs underneath their weight. 

Honey wheezed, staring up at the bright lights of her ceiling. The only thing that she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears, and the wet, wheezing as she struggled to draw in air around the mixture of bile and spit that was pooling in her throat. 

She swallowed noisily. The pain helped cut through the feverish, haze of hormones, clearing her mind slightly. _‘Fuck. Okay. Bed isn’t going to happen. No problem. I’ll just rough it down here until somebody finds me. Somebody will notice a patient lying on the floor. No biggie.'_

Honey groped around at the edge of her bed, and with the last of her energy, dragged her blanket off of the bed. The scratchy fabric fell down around her, pinning her to the floor. She could feel the manic energy draining out of her body, being replaced by the cold, lead weights of exhaustion. 

_‘First, rest. Then I’ll get the shiv. Yeah. Yeah! Just a little longer. Just gotta take a nap first.’_

Giggling to herself, Honey ran a hand over her distended stomach and felt the eggs oscillate. _‘This’ll be over soon, you little fucking parasites.’_

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentines day, have some eggs. this has been in my drafts for _too long_ , and I'm planning on making it into three parts if I can find a beta willing to read it (wink wink). If y'all are interested in keeping up with my writing, my nsfw twitter is [mx1_jawbreaker ](https://twitter.com/mx1_jawbreaker). hmu if you have a writing idea that you want to see carried out since rn I'm looking for inspiration to beef up my nsfw writing portfolio.
> 
> Honey is a personal OC — she's a space mercenary that typically takes jobs which involve her being active out in the field, but 500HIR isn't something to scoff at.
> 
> edit: this song has a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/4h5bwpudkyc0p53enwoo597vr/playlist/4khS04xhTkqSxPwaw41hBp?si=9mCviYyzQTypDS0ghouVWQ), if you're into those things


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